Peter Pan: the Broken Boy
by ChamaDemon
Summary: Peter pan; kidnapped, imprisoned, and forced to serve on the Jolly Roger by Hook, is but a shell of the boy he used to be. But will an unexpected visit to Neverland after 3 years renew what life used to be in him? Lots of angst, and peter abuse
1. Painful Memories

Ok, so this is my first fan fic in a loooong time, so please excuse the bad grammar and stuff. I did my best.

Brief summary: This story is basically about Peter pan, who 3 years ago fell into Hook's trap, was kidnapped and imprisoned, and after Hook's planned attempts to kill Peter didn't work out, eventually peter became part of the crew (very much against his own will). He was beaten and mistreated horribly, and it is only recently that peter has gained any sort of respect from the crew. Hook, however, still takes every opportunity to take out his anger on the boy.

In later chapters, I will go back to when peter 'joined' the jolly roger, and his time adjusting to his time on board. Needless to say he has a difficult time doing so.

You will notice that Peter is a bit different than his typical happy-go-lucky, bubbly, optimistic, proud, brave young wonder boy we all know and love. Years of getting beaten by a ship full of pirates who hate you can have that effect on someone. But I intend to go back to earlier on, back when he was still that happy young boy and describe all that fun, traumatizing stuff that happened to him.

-oh, and btw, this is more based off the original Peter Pan books/series, and not the Disney version. Peter is a blond, there are a lot more than only 7 lost boys, they are much closer to Pan's age (who is about 16), and Hook is a lot less… stupid. He is one bamf.

Enjoy!

The night air was humid and cold as it brushed past the teenager lying on the damp wooden deck. Gentle winds flushed through his shaggy blond hair and filled his lungs, in turn filling his absent mind with the familiar sensations of comfort he used to feel. With each intake of the fresh liquid oxygen, peaceful sensations flooded through his mind, giving him an odd, peaceful feeling he hadn't had in almost 3 years. 3 years that seemed to last much, much longer.

The blond lay crouched next to the pillar he was tied to, curled in a ball to try and keep in as much warm as he could, lest it be stolen by the chilly winds passing him. He had a thick rope tied tightly around his waist, and a long rope several feet long that connected it to the pillar. It allowed him room to walk around deck, but not enough to jump off.

His small frame shivered gently, but it was far from bothering him. The smell of the air, and the nostalgic peace it brought with it was well worth the chill. For a while he had sat up and watched the trees on the nearby beach rustle under the breeze, and listened to the night swallows sing their distant tune, and watched the twinkling reflection of the stars on the ocean waters as they met up with the white sandy beaches. For a while he soaked in as much of it as he could, seemingly unable to get enough. But after a little while, the realization that this would be the last time he would be able to experience these things began to hit him, and all those peaceful smells and sounds and sights brought with them a stinging sensation of reality. For the 3 long years he had lived on this damned ship, he had imagined himself back here. But now that he was indeed here, and all the sensations were hitting him full force, the pain of his situation hit him twice as hard, and so the Blond haired boy lay down to rest; doing his best to forget his location just for a little while.

So now he lay, his mind fading in and out of the forgiving darkness of sleep, the pain gradually leaking out of him. Finally, he would sleep, and tomorrow they would leave this place. This pain would never hurt like this again…

"oi, is it really-" A strained voice was whispered. The sound was distorted and muffled in the teenagers ears, his mind still half asleep. Not taking a moment to try and understand this noise, he did his best to fall back into his deep sleep. But a tugging at his arm pulled his mind further into unwanted consciousness.

Absently, Peter raised an arm to swing at whatever was disturbing him, all the while grunting and mumbling quietly before turning on his side. More muffled sounds were heard, gradually becoming louder and clearer, though the teenager couldn't quite make out what exactly was being said, nor did he care. He just wanted sleep.

"Peter!" A hushed voiced squealed in his ear, forcing all consciousness back to him. With an irritated moan, he cracked his sleepy blue eyes open to see what had caused such an irritating noise. It appeared to originate from an oddly shaped figure hovering over him; dark strands of chaotic fibers and leaves protruded from every which way, making it hard to define exactly what it was.

So instead of wasting brain power trying to figure it out, Peter simply asked.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" He accused lazily at the towering figure, not bothering to sit up all the way. Honestly Peter couldn't care less what it was, so long as it shut up and went away. Unfortunately for him, the figure didn't seem to be so considerate.

Leaning in closer to Peter, the creature spoke again in a whispered voice. "Peter? It is you isn't it? I told the others I had seen you on deck!" he turned around half way to two other dark figures who were standing a foot or two away, watching the scene cautiously. "Its really him boys! Its Peter!" The last word was practically screeched, and earned a 'SHHHHHHHH" from the others, which in itself was almost as loud as the screech.

"Peter pan?" One of the figures said excitedly, the other chiming in right after. "Peter? Are you sure its him? It dosnt look much like him-"

"of course its Peter you idiot! He's ganna look a little different in pirate clothes of course" the closest one said defensively, before turning back to peter and leaning closer. "And he has a black eye, so that's why he looks different!"

Peter gave a sleepy groan at the irritating banter. He really couldn't care what on earth these… people? Wanted with him, or why they were so excited. Peter wasn't stupid; he knew if he bothered taking a few moments to try and understand the situation, he would probably figure out who they were and what they wanted.

But after a miserable day like today, Peter just wanted to go back to sleep.

"Yes, yes. I'm peter. Go away now." He said, not bothering to whisper it like the rest. His black eye began to throb at straining to see clearly, but his vision had improved enough for him to be able to see that they weren't 'creatures' however, rather than people wearing horrific outfits. They were covered in leaves and sticks and dark masks covered their faces. He would have guessed it was for camouflage if it weren't for the random bits of clothing that were colored rather bright and oddly. It was almost like a ritualistic get up or something.

Was it redskins?

"Peter!" The other two seemed to holler excitedly at once, and were quickly followed by a 'shhhhh' from the closest.

"Break his binding! We need to get him out of here!" The urgency was slightly lost by the seemingly overjoyed inflection the orders had. The other two shuffled a bit, taking in the sight of the illustrious Peter before turning to the rope below them.

Peter was about to lay out a few thoughtless insults at the 3 of them for keeping him awake like this, (completely disregarding their talk of a supposed rescue/kidnapping) but he stopped when he noticed the closest of them kneel next to him and grab the end of his mask. The person pulled it off his face, and to Peter's surprise, it wasn't a redskin's features he saw underneath, nor a hideous creature. It was a pale, round faced young boy around the same age as peter, his features gentle and symmetrical; severely contradicting the mask and get up he was wearing. Red, spiky hair lined the top part of his forehead (the rest being covered by the leaves and furs of the outfit), and a delighted, severely anxious expression lit up his face.

Peters insults stuck in his throat, his mind trying to make sense of what he was seeing. A… boy?

"Oi, something is wrong with this rope! Its not cutting-" one of the boys said, tugging on it and causing peter to be yanked forward.

"Then untie it from the pillar!" The red head said, diverting his eyes from Peter's for just long enough to tell the others this.

"We tried! Stupid pirates and their weird knots…" One said, giving a kick to the pillar.

"It's your stupid dagger that's the problem! Here-" The red head pulled a small knife out of his back… pocket? And tossed it towards the other two "Cut it with that, old sally cuts everything. And hurry up for fickles sake!" And they quickly pulled the rope taught, yanking peter yet again, and began hacking away.

"Don't worry Peter! We'll have you out of here in a jiffy" The boy explained.

Peter only stared back, sleepy suspicious eyes suddenly morphing into wide ones. His breath hitched slightly as the red head's familiar features finally connected with old memories.

"T…terry?" Peter breathed. If it were possible, the redheads expression lit up even more so than before.

"That's right Peter! You remember me!" Hands grasped each arm of Peters as this was said, shaking him excitedly before tugging the small framed teenager against his own. Peter was crushed under Terry's arms, but he was in too much shock to react.

After a quick moment of overjoyed embrace, Terry let go of the smaller framed Peter, not noticing the blond's lack of response to his actions. "God we all thought you were dead!" He hollered, forgetting to whisper all together.

"SHHHHHHH" The others had almost finished slicing through the rope, when a loud thud, grunts, and stomping was heard on the other side of the ship. Instantly they all froze (except peter, who was already frozen) and looked towards that direction.

"You idiot!" One of them whispered frantically. "We'll be caught for sure!"

"You two are the ones who-"

"_Shut up_!" Peter suddenly yelled, keeping it in a whispering voice this time. The harshness of the inflection of those words stopped the 3 from bickering in their tracks, all looking to Peter immediately.

Jabbing a finger to several large crates on the opposite of the ship, Peter quickly spoke. "Go hide behind there! Don't come out till I say so" He demanded.

"But Peter-" Terry tried to argue.

"_GO_!" He screamed (as best he could in a whispering voice). This left no room for argument, and the others didn't hesitate to run in the direction he demanded. And it was good they did; a second longer and they would have been seen.


	2. Escape

"What the bloody hell is all the noise?" A groggy voice came from behind. Peter spun around to face the man who the voice originated to, but upon doing so, he felt the rope binding him to the ships pillar snap. He could feel the blood leave his face, afraid the pirate that was slowly moving closer would have noticed.

Thankfully, that didn't seem to be the case. "God Pan, why you always causing racket?" The pirate's accusation was practically empty, having an almost sarcastic inflection to it. Peter picked up on it, and quickly played into it to avoid suspicion.

"You're the bloody twad who woke me from a sleep, Virgil" He accused back. "What's the big idea anyway?" Peters words held even less significance than the others, his mind spinning over the 3 lost boys hiding several feet away. But this worked in his favor, and it only seemed as though Peter was casually playing along.

A sleepy, rough chuckle was the response, and the blond could feel some of the blood return to his face as he heard this. "You and your damn nightmares. They drove us mad when you started bunking next to us!" He shuffled himself a little closer to Peter before yawning and scratching the back of his head.

The pirate differed from the majority of the others on ship. He was slimmer, a bit shorter, and much younger looking than most, almost resembling Peter in some ways. Dark brown, jagged hair messily strewed about his head, several locks enclosed in pirate beads and strands of fiber. His clothing was a simple, baggy top and slacks; a typical sleeping get-up, though bandages and bracelets lined his arms and wrists. His face had much gentler features than many of his shipmates had, and his eyes didn't quite have the bloodthirsty luster the others had. They held more sarcasm deep within them rather than the typical Pirate rage.

Peter noted his complete uninterested demeanor, and was grateful. Obviously he was only checking because it was his job to check on Peter if he heard anything, and not because he was genuinely suspicious.

"Yes well, you and your trolloping arse woke me out of my fit, so you can take your leave now you lazy wallup." Peter retorted with little thought. It was second nature to him to playfully argue with Virgil in such ways; the two of them would often chat here and there, and they both became almost close.

Well, as close as a pirate can get with a prisoner.

"Wallup?" He accused in mock offense, "why sir I ne'r in a day did wallup! And when once I did be had such a thing, it was merely a trivial Wallup and shant nothin' more!" Throwing up his arms, he emphasized his point sarcastically before laughing at his own ranting.

"Always the poet…" The blond shifted, taking a step back towards the pillar in an attempt to make the snapped rope less visible. "Now that I had your wonderful lullaby, I can sleep without fret."

"Haha, my sarcasm has worn off on you nicely" The brunette smiled, before suddenly tearing his eyes away from the smaller boy's as if in thought. Peter noted the odd change in behavior, but did his best to off play it.

"Aye it has. Soon I'll be a right cheeky git like you." Damn it, Peter needed to get him to leave soon or the lost boys might do something stupid.

There was a pause. It wasn't more than a few moments, but it was enough to cause the anxiety level in Peter to rise astronomically. What the hell was he supposed to do? If the lost boys were anything like they used to be, they'll be jumping out flailing and screaming in no time, because they thought they 'heard a signal' or something.

Before Peter could have an inward heart attack, Virgil spoke up again. "Pan, I wanted to speak to you for a sec."

This couldn't be good. Virgil isn't just the 'talking' type unless it's cracking a joke or making a sarcastic remark. And the few times he did act this was when Virgil could tell Peter was at his breaking point, and would try to steer him off the edge.

In a desperate attempt to avoid such a talk, peter tried one last hollow insult. "You been flapping that overused mouth of yours since you woke me of my sleep." But Peter could tell it was pointless.

"Well I be flapping it a bit longer so deal." He reached the railing of the boat a few feet away from Peter, and rested his arms on it, his eyes scanning the Neverwood forest out past the beach. "Look you, I know what being here… I know what it's probably doing to that little head of yours," He began. His tone lost his sarcasm, though it kept good and clear of sounding too concerned.

Peter didn't see a point in trying at this point. All he could do is take what Virgil had to say the best he could. Virgil was usually right after all. If it weren't for the 3 lost boys still hiding on deck, he might even consider taking into account what he says.

"Woulda been best if you kept your arse down in the cellar. Seein this place does you no lick a good." He sighed. "Suppose Hook thought he was doing you a favor by having you stay out on deck tonight. Let you get a good look at this place."

Peter just listened. He desperately didn't want to have this conversation, wherever Virgil was trying to take it. He just needed him to _leave._

To Peter's surprise, a twinge of guilt hit after that thought. What the hell?

Turning to look at Peter, Virgil continued. "Look Pan, I know we had our squabbles, and I know you had yer fair share of beatings from me and the crew…" His eyes darted down for a moment. "But that was long since.

"I guess my point is… just to be letting you know that, none of us agree with what Hook be putting you through."

Peter, having had his fair share of shock in one day, wasn't entirely unprepared to deal with something so odd as that, but he couldn't help but to stare dumbfounded.

After another pause, Virgil spoke again."But, not much we can be doing about that, now is there?" Placing his arms behind his head in a carefree manner, he sighed and gazed back at Peter.

Peter, as much as it didn't make sense to him, understood. He only nodded, avoiding eye contact with the taller pirate. The scraping of boots was the next thing he heard, and after a few seconds Virgil was next to him again. Peter should have started panicking about the snapped rope again, but now he couldn't focus on it enough to worry.

Peter didn't look up at him until he felt a painful thunk on his arm. "Ow!" He yelped, clutching his arm and glairing accusingly at the taller pirate. Virgil had a mean smile on his face, obviously pleased by the reaction.

"Jackass." The blond pouted, but a smile crept on his features. He was just glad the tension was relieved. The Brunette laughed in response.

"You're such a pansy." He retorted before giving another stretch and turning to walk away. "We'll be shipping off after we get the captn's treasure, so just hold out till then."

Slowly, as he watched the pirate walk away and leave his site as he went below deck, the realization of what he said hit. They came here to get Hook's treasure? The treasure Peter pan and the lost boys stole from him and stashed all those years ago?

_That_ treasure?

"Is he gone?" Whispered a voice from behind. Peter barely registered the question. Before he realized the boys were behind him, looking in the same direction as him, hovering rather closely.

"Good job peter! The stupid pirate didn't suspect a thing!" One said, another quickly agreeing right after. "Hey! Peter cut the rope!" The third chimed in ecstatically in a whispered yell.

"Peter?" Terry asked, poking him lightly on the back, noting he hadn't stopped staring in the direction of where the pirate went. "Peter c'mon we gotta go"

Slowly, Peter turned and stared back at the boy (who wasn't really much of a boy, being about an inch taller), and frowned, trying to understand. "Go?"

Terry hesitated at the odd reaction from him. Another boy stepped closer and stood just behind Terry, removing his mask and revealing his young looking face. He too had gentle features, his cheeks a bit fuller than Terry's and dirty blond hair lining his face. He was also a bit shorter than both Peter and Terry, but not by much.

"Were bustin ya out, Peter! Whacha think?" His adoring expression made Peter a bit uncomfortable, and he shifted his weight.

For a moment they waited for a response from Peter, but when they didn't receive one, the proceeded to grab him by the arm and pull him to the railing of the shit. Peter's immediate reaction was to jerk away from them, but his slightly dazed demeanor prevented it from being anything more than a flinch.

"Can we make it back on what we have?" One asked.

"Of course we will! Peter is an expert in flying; he'd be able to soar with just one grain of fairy dust!" Another boasted proudly. "He's the one that taught all of us how to fly!"

"I meant for all of us, dummy."

"Shut up, both of you! You want to wake the whole ship?" Terry whisper-hollered while pulling out a small brown bag from somewhere in that ridiculous outfit. Little shimmers of glitter were scattered on the outside of the bag, and a dull glow resonated off of it, lighting all of the boys' faces a bit. Delicately, the red-haired boy opened the bag just a bit for him to peek inside. As soon as he did, a light flashed on his peeking eye.

"Not much, but we should be able to make it to land at least" He looked over to Peter, who was still being clung to by the slightly shorter boy. "Can.. can you fly without fairy dust?" The question came out awkwardly. Terry didn't want to insult Peter… but he had to ask. Back when he ruled over Neverland, he flew everywhere, all the time. With or without tinkerbell. It got to the point where the others didn't know if Pan even _needed _fairy dust to fly. When the others would try to fly after him, they would always need a good drowning in the stuff and a full concentration of happy thoughts just to keep up with the eternal youth.

But they had hardly any fairy dust left, and it had been such a long time sense peter had been exposed to it.

"I…" Peter had no idea how to respond. Flying? He hadn't even considered the idea in years. Hook threatened that right out of him fairly quickly upon gaining membership on the _Jolly Rodger. _Peter hadn't dared try. "I don't know."

The lost boy's eyes furrowed for a moment, but accepted it as a 'no' and reached in the bag of dust, pulling out a pinch of the glowing sand, and dashed it over Peter's head. After doing so, he paused an moment to note the uncomfortable look on Pan's face, and how his arms swatted away the glittering particles as they tickled his nose and got in his eyes. This was only for a moment, before the red-head did the same for the other boys; a pinch on each head, before dumping what little specks were left onto his own.

"Alright boys, happy thoughts now!" and with that, Terry began to lift into the air. Peter noticed that Terry's eyes stayed fixed on his as he slowly ascended. He could only assume that seeing his old, infamous leader was his happy thought.

The other boys were next to lift into the air, taking a split moment to enjoy the weightlessness as a boy cant help but do, before flying over the railing of the ship. There they hovered, many feet above the gentle black waves brushing against the boat. They didn't continue however; turning to look down at peter, who still had both feet on the deck of the Jolly Rodger.

"What is it Peter?" one asked, lowering closer to his level. The blonde still had to crane his neck to look at them though; a wide eyed, slightly glazed expression played on his face. He maintained it for a moment before frowning. They wanted him to fly… could he fly?

Of course he could fly! As the lost boy said; he was an expert flyer! Better than any boy had ever been! Peter never so much as hesitated when he lived his endless days on Neverland! After all, pixy dust and happy thoughts were plentiful for him.

But now, Peter had to strain to think of a happy thought. He wasn't sure he had had a single one since he boarded the damned shit he stood on 3 years ago. Where there was once nothing but happiness and bravery and youth, well… Peter wasn't sure what was there inside him now. He strained and searched in his mind the best he could for that happiness he used to thrive on, but was coming up short.

But the lost boys had come! This was a wondrous thought! It was what he hadn't even dared to dream of happening for ages! What happiness he should be feeling at such a thing happening! Right? Peter thought of it. He focused on it and focused on it until his head began to hurt, but it just wouldn't lift him. Was this feeling not happiness? Could this rapid heartbeat and short of breath and a dizzy head be anything other than that long lost joy he used to have in abundance?

No… it wasn't that happiness. It wasn't that at all. Peter had given up hope of escaping this ship long ago. Such happiness couldn't be found so readily on something that was dashed away from him so unwontedly. For once that feeling of joy be stripped away so harshly, and that last glimmer of hope be shoved away into the dark abyss of acceptance, how could one possibly find it again? Even when its staring you right in the face? Pixy dust and all?

No, it wasn't happiness. It was fear. Nothing but fear.

Just as he realized this, the 3 lost boys faces all seemed to change; their excited happy faces contorted into horror as their eyes all fixed on something behind Peter on the opposite end of the ship. Peter had to turn to see just what it was they were seeing.

Standing just at the entrance of the lower deck, stood the familiar slim framed pirate. His eyes fixed wide on the 3 hovering boys several feet away, and on Peter, who looked back at him with a mirroring expression of shock. Virgil, having heard them (after their voices slowly got less hushed with anticipation for leaving), came back on deck to see the cause of the noise.

There was a moment of silence. Neither the lost boys nor Peter could do anything but stare, waiting for the Pirates' reaction to their presence.


	3. Happy Thoughts

The moment seemed to last a very long time. And during that very long time, Peter was sure his heart hadn't beat once.

Arms quickly made their way around Peter, grabbing onto his arms and his waist, jerking him up into the air. The boys hoisted Peter over the ledge of the Jolly Roger's railing, yelling and hurrying each other to get a good hold on him. The one-and-only boy almost shrieked at none too gentle arms that held him above the now terrifying black waters below him, but he held it in, instead clinging to the boys for his life.

"Lets get out of here before he wakes the ship!" One hollered. "I wouldn't worry about that, your screaming will do the trick!" He retorted not much quieter, frantic energy and panic lining both their voices.

"For fucks sake, you are mad!" Peter barked, noting their hold on him wasn't all the most stable. He kept getting hand full's of leaves from the boys' outfits as he tried to find something else to hang on to out of panic. It took them a few moments to get a tighter grip on Peter, before they started to head for land.

None of them looked back to note the pirate's reactions except Peter, who was surprised to see him still standing there, staring. The most peculiar expression lingered on his face as he watched Peter and the boys fly further and further away; Peter couldn't quite put his finger on what the expression was. He looked back at Virgil as long as he could, until the distance made it so he had to turn away.

"Peter! Try to fly!" One of them said. Peter tried, but he couldn't quite seem to focus on anything other than the very dark, deathly looking waters very far below him.

"I… I need a happy thought…" He yelled, his legs dangling uncomfortably. Perhaps one of the boys could somehow give him one of their happy thoughts.

"Just think of something happy!" said the boy holding his arms. Not very helpful.

"Think of seeing the other lost boys again!" Said the boy holding his waist. He did, but it didn't lift him.

"Think of slicing that dastardly Hooks throat!" Said the boy leading the way. If it were possible, Peter felt himself get heaver.

The boys were running out of ideas. Peter searched his mind for something that would help him feel lighter, something that would be happy enough to defy gravity. He tried to remember his time in Neverland, but all that came up was memories of being aboard the _Jolly Roger_. He tried to picture his lost boys, but their happy, round faces mixed with those of angry looking pirate shipmates. He tried to imagine the mermaids, the redskins, the rainbows and forests, the hideout, the fairies, but all failed to lift him. He tried to remember the feeling of being that special, one-and-only boy, but all he could remember was the scars and bruises littered on his body left by Hook and his crew, and his inability to fly. He didn't feel quite so special anymore.

There had to be something! Some little hidden thought that would bring him joy! Something tucked away and forgotten about his happier days that he could remember and lift himself with! But what?

Then, the face of a young, rosy cheeked young girl, with golden ringlets for hair and bright, blue eyes flashed across his vision. _Wendy._

The stress on the arms holding him suddenly lessoned, and the pull of gravity that threatened to tug him down to the black abyss of the night's ocean, suddenly reversed itself. Wendy! Of course! Peter had almost forgotten about that girl! Oh how seeing her pretty face would make flying easy, even during the gloomiest of moods! It had been ages sense he remembered her, even before he joined Hooks crew. Such a memory hadn't been tainted by the years of suffering he had endured; it was almost a gateway back to the time when he would casually travel to her world and back, and life was so joyful.

He didn't quite levitate fully, but he was significantly lighter now; the boys still held on to him, but they were able to reach land with much less trouble. Peter had to concentrate very hard on the face of the girl he used to care so much for until his boots met with white, moonlit sand. The lost boys let go of him, all landing themselves, toppling over and falling into the soft pillow of the beach sand. One of the boys started in an exhausted laughing fit, the others smiling triumphantly, though clearly shaken by the close call.

"Didja see that dumb ol pirates face!" one bellowed as he began to disrobe the large, obnoxious get up we was wearing and tossing it idly on the sand. Underneath all the leaves and odd looking armor was a very normal looking youth; scrawny limbs were covered in torn clothes mixed with leaves held together with shabby looking belts and ropes. Though it wasn't exactly a well put together look, it was an extreme contrast from the scary mess he was before. The others were soon to follow, casting off their camouflage and revealing the true boys underneath. To Peter, they looked almost exactly like he remembered the lost boys to be.

Almost… but something was a bit different.

The sky was beginning to change its deep blue color into a purple-ish yellow color in the east, and the stars were beginning to lose their sparkle and fade. Out over the ocean, the _Jolly Roger _rested, anchored a ways from land. Peter eyes remained on the ship, watching… waiting…

The boys chuckled and bragged about their victory, before one, the sandy blond boy who wore a fox's pelt around his waist, noticed Peter standing at the edge of the waters, staring out at the ship they just escaped.

"Peter?" He asked, gaining the attention of the other two. Before they could get a response from him, a low, deep horn sounded in the distance. The boys looked in the direction of the ship, noting that it was where the sound originated.

"What was that?" Asked Terry.

"It's to alert the crew when there's a mishap." A bit of despair lined the cock-a-doodle's voice. "They will be on land soon.." Peter was afraid of hearing that noise; he knew first hand just how fast the pirates on that ship assemble. As soon as that horn sounds, there is little time to run.

A frantic glance between the lost boys took place. "We need to head for the hideout then! We can out fly em!"

"Were out of fairy dust, stupid!" Terry threw the empty brown bag down on the sand.

"Then we gotta leg it! Which way back home, Liam?" Asked the sandy-blond haired boy.

Liam had brown hair and green eyes. Old, broken goggles lay strapped to his forehead, and he wore a ragged leather vest, jumpers, and tall black boots. A long, rusted yellow necklace was also worn around his neck with a compass on the end, which he regularly fidgeted with. If he looked entirely more put together, he could be mistaken for an explorer. Opening his compass, he held it out, examined it for a moment, and pointed directly towards the large, rather intimidating Neverwood forest behind them.

All of the boys turned and peered into its dark depths. The 3 lost boys had flown over the forest on their way to the _Jolly Roger, _and for good reason. The Neverwood forest wasn't safe for the likes of boys like them anymore. Not that it was ever that safe to begin with; not this part of it anyway. Even Peter would avoid this section of Neverwood back when he flew where he pleased. But over the past 3 years, without the one-and-only boy to defeat all foes and evil do-ers, the darker, deeper edges of Neverwood forest grew bigger and bigger. The bigger the trees, the darker the forest became; that dark became a haven for evil creatures to grow. Even the trees began to feed on the evil, and became evil themselves.

So says the stories, anyway. True or not, something has to be said for a forest even Peter Pan would avoid.

And now, it seemed avoiding it wasn't an option. The pirates were coming, and they had to leave the beach.

"P…peter, you have been through the dark side of Neverwood forest… is it true there are goblins and evil fairies in there?" 3 sets of wide, fearful eyes turn their attention on Peter, who didn't seem to be affected by the menacing trees looming over them at the forests edge. In fact, he had been watching the ship all this time, eyes fixed on the small little boats filled with pirates slowly making their way towards shore. They were still very far away; the boats wouldn't be visible at all through the slowly growing morning fog if Peter didn't already know what they looked like, but they were advancing and a disturbingly quick rate.

Turning his head to register the question, he looked up at the forest. "No such things as Goblins. And evil fairies?" He scoffed. The idea appalled him. Had the lost boys really forgotten the true nature of a fairy? True all fairies weren't exactly saints, but they were _never_ evil. Something born of a child's first laugh didn't have the ability to turn evil. Even Peter, who had had been imprisoned for the past 3 years, hadn't forgotten something like that.

He didn't look at the others as he headed into the gloom of trees, not hesitating for a moment as he pierced the fog that seemed to seep out of its dark mass. The boys looked on in awe. Peter may look different, and act a bit different… and speak a bit different….. but! It seemed his bravery remained just as they remembered!

But unknown to the lost boys that quickly followed their long lost leader into the deathly darkness of the trees, it wasn't bravery that led the young teen into the Neverwood forest, nor was it awareness of what would lie within. No, Peter lead on simply because he knew that whatever lie in those woods, whether it really be goblins or evil fairies, wasn't nearly as bad as what was slowly catching up to them in those pirate boats.


	4. The Break

The ship was quiet on deck. Peter knew well that just below it was less than calm, but at least up top he had a chance. He skidded up the stairs, forcing himself to put pressure on his bloody, fractured leg so he could run; adrenalin pushed the pain to the back of his mind. Immediately upon reaching the surface, he saw 3 pirates that were against the back most railing, gathering up bits of rope that lay in a pile next to them. Thankfully, they didn't seem to notice Peter; their attention on untangling the ropes.

Hesitating, he waited and stared a moment, before slowly and quietly moving to the east most area. The back end of the ship would have been most ideal; the only windows there were to Hook's study and bedroom, and Peter knew the damned pirate wasn't in his quarters at the moment. Looks like he would have to take his chances with the western side. Hopefully no pirates would see him below deck out the windows.

He made it far, inching his way silently across the open deck, doing his best not to leave a bloody trail behind him. But unfortunately he didn't make it quite far enough. Turning around at just the wrong moment, one of the pirates saw the ragged bleeding boy making his way to the eastern side. It took a second for the pirate to register exactly what he was seeing, but once he did, he raised his sword with a loud holler and ran after him; the 2 others following. "Pan! Stop there!" They screamed.

Peter took little notice, instead pushing himself up into a run again. Getting through the main deck, he hurried down the lower decks. The ship was so big! Much bigger than Peter ever realized when flying about it. He had only ever really seen the main deck, but there were many other parts of this ship he hadn't even known was there. Over the past 3 months he had been aboard, the ship only seemed to get bigger and bigger.

Turning a corner, peter found the ledge he was looking for. The western ledge was a part of the ship that had few windows on the lower side; it was primarily used to reeling in old fishing nets and used for storage of excess barrels. It was usually abandoned, and it would be the perfect place for Peter to jump ship.

But of course, this just happened to be one of those times that it _wasn't_ abandoned.

There at the railing stood a pirate, casually whittling away at a piece of wood before turning and seeing the boy stagger in sight. There Peter halted, his heart dropping. In the moment he stopped and stumbled; the pain and fatigue that the adrenalin had been keeping at bay all hit him at once. Not only that, but his desperation increased 10 fold, and that was the only thing that kept him from collapsing.

It was just one pirate… Peter could get past him. All he needed was to get over that railing. If he ran fast enough, the pirate wouldn't be able to stop him. So he lunged forward, aiming for just past the staring pirate. Peter could make it! He had to!

Unfortunately Peter forgot to take into account his mangled leg, his extreme fatigue and dehydration, and just how much bigger the other pirate was from him. As he dashed forward, he managed to reach the railing, but before he could even attempt to climb over, an arm wrapped itself against Peter's waist.

"What the bloody hell you doing runt?" The pirate screamed as he clung to the small boy who was trying to claw himself away from him. Peter clung to the railing the best he could with his tiny arms, but the pirate was too much bigger; yanking him away and tossing him to the floor.

"You gone mad, trying to toss yourself over to Davey Jones?" The pirate was in shock. "Trying ta killing yourself wont escape the fate Hook's planned for ya!"

Peter, crumpled on the floor a few feet away, forced himself back onto his feet, though it took a few tries. He looked desperately towards the pirate, before turning back toward the direction that footsteps could be heard growing louder and louder.

Spastically, he lunged forward again trying to reach the railing, but the pirate stopped him again, this time hitting him hard across the face before grabbing tight hold on the boy's flailing arms.

Peter didn't even acknowledge the strike that left yet another mark on his young face. "Let go of me you bastard!" He spat at the pirate, venom matching his fear. The boy thrashed and kicked the best he could, before making the mistake of kicking with his broken foot. With a pained scream he seemed to lose his strength, almost collapsing on the pirate holding him down. The pain was simply too much for him to continue fighting back.

"Yer not offing yourself on this ship, understand that mate?" The brunette pirate seemed more exasperated than angry. Peter deflated under his grasp, his face turning from anxious anger to a pained expression.

"I wasn't… I wasn't killing myself" He slurred, tears filling in his dark circles under his eyes and mixing with the blood on his cheeks.

"Oh ye weren't were ya? So you just thought ya'd swim your way back to Neverland with a broken leg? Not only would the stifling pain of saltwater on a wound stop you in your tracks, but you would die of exhaustion, dehydration, and probably getting eaten by a shark before you even made it half a the way back!" The tall pirate held onto him tightly, despite how the boy stopped fighting. Peter was only a bit taller than the pirate's waist, and the he had to hunch to get a view on the boy's face.

"I don't care!" he yelled desperately "Please! I cant go back in there.." the brunette pirate assumed he meant back in the brig, being that was where Peter was stashed the majority of the time. Instead of hollering back at the boy and telling him just how stupid he is, he only looked down at him, brows furrowed. The once-so-wonderful boy had become… _this_. Back in Neverland when Peter would harass the pirates and always leave victoriously, it didn't seem possible for his glowing spirit to break. He realized that he was in fact looking at that broken spirit now.

So broken that suicide seemed the only option for him.

"Just let me go!" The blond didn't even face the other by this point; his head was lowered out of exhaustion, eyes down on the floor. From that angle, the bloody scabs caked into Peter's hair were easy to see; the pirate was surprised at just how many there were.

"There's the brat!" A gruff voice hollered from a few feet away. The other pirates had caught up. "Good Virgil, you caught him!" said another with a relieved inflection.

Peter didn't react to the voices. His head remained down, unmoving. The pirate that held him hesitated.

"We saw the kid tryin ta run fer it on deck." The pirate sneered at the words. "take it Hook wont be too happy to see him." Another next to him cracked his knuckles. "dunno where the little runt thought he'd achieve by runnin' off like that. Aint nothing but sea for days."

"Bah. you scallywags just get back to your ropes. I'll take the kid ta the capn.'" Said the brunette pirate, Virgil, that was holding Peter. The others just grunted irritatedly, swearing under their breath about how much trouble keeping that kid aboard was, as they left.

Peter stood motionless, his mind blank. He didn't even want to think about what his punishment would be. He didn't want to think about anything. All he wanted was to just jump off that rail next to him. To get away from these pirates; whether it meant burning salt water, drowning, or sharks. Anything was better than facing Hook again. But the hands grabbing his wrists were holding too tightly to break free of.

Virgil tossed the slightly limp Peter on the ground while sighing. "Do you have any idea how much trouble we would get into if you jumped?" This was almost said as a mumble. Peter was surprised at the fall; having expected to be immediately dragged to the captain. The blonde was far from relieved, however, expecting the pirate to take this opportunity to take his frustration out on the boy, as many other pirates had in the past. He didn't look up at the adult, he simply cringed, squeezing his eyes shut, and prepared himself for the blows to come.

"For fucks sake, I can't afford to beat you in your shape, twad. Your half dead as it were." Kneeling down, he hovered over Peter's mangled leg and examined it. "How the bloody hell did you manage this anyway? I know the captain hits hard, but you look like you got it caught in a crab trap and got dragged 3 leagues!" As he said this, Peter felt a poke on his crippled leg, and dared to open his eyes.

"God your thick. I swear if you try and kill yourself again I'll do worse than this to your face." The brunette then, none too gently started wrapping the leg with one of his scarf's off his belt.

"Ow!" Peter cringed, wiping his face of the blood and sweat. "Stupid… I said I wasn't tryin to kill- _OW_!" He smacked at the pirate, but his arms felt incredibly heavy, and he barely managed to make contact. The pirate smacked back, hitting him much harder.

"Quit it, brat! Can't take you back in the shape you're in. I'll get in trouble if ya bleed to death" the pirate scoffed. "Honestly it's fucking mental. Captain beats you to a bloody pulp, then threatens _us, _the crew, if you die. Like it's our fault!"

"Ow…" Peter tried to hush himself, but the pain of his leg was intensified by Virgil's wrapping of it. He had to try as hard as he could to keep the pained cries down, and the tears from leaving his eyes.

"I mean we don't really even beat you anymore! Only sometimes… right now would be a perfect occasion if you weren't already half dead. It's all the Captain's doin lately." He said this as though Peter should thank him.

After he finished wrapping the leg, Virgil hoisted the boy up onto his feet and glared down at him. "Alright look you, if you don't want to get the shit beat out of ya like this all the time, I suggest you stifle that rebellion in you." The pirate gestured to his face where Peter hit him. "If you just keep your mouth shut and do what he says, you'd save yourself a lot of pain."

Peter didn't look at him. His expression was pained from trying to adjust to the new sensation of having his broken leg wrapped. But his eyes; those wide, bloodshot, crystal blue eyes of his were different… they trailed over the ocean waves lapping against the ship's side. The glitter and boy-ish youth and joy that once flowed out of those eyes was all but gone; all that remained was an empty glair watching the waves.


	5. Pain

The forest was even more terrifying on the inside as it was the out. All the trees were incredibly tall, the tops seeming endlessly high. Their enormously thick trunks covered the mossy and dark ground, making passing through a tough maneuver in itself. With each step, the boys all huddled somewhat close together. Every noise had them all cringing and turning to find the source of the noise, Terry pulling out ol Sally and pointing it each way. Liam would fidget with his compass continuously, keeping a keen eye out for evil fairies. All the boys were gradually being slowed by their suffocating fear as they would pause and hesitate every time a sound could be heard in the trees around them. All accept the young pirate that led the way, who never hesitated once.

The dark was also suffocating in itself, it was almost impossible to see for their first while, but soon a dull light could be seen though the tree tops. The light didn't help much, but it made visibility a little better. Not only that, but with the light came a little more courage for the boys. Evil creatures never came out in the day time. Even if the day had just barely begun, and the light was almost non-existent on the forest floor. But it was daylight none the less!

Peter didn't seem scared at all while making his way through the dark Neverwoods, though he wasn't completely sure where he was going. He had a general idea, but for the most part he was just interested in creating distance between them and the pirates that couldn't be too far behind. A few times Peter would have to slow so the others would catch up.

There was an odd familiarity to the forest, he had to admit. Peter knew he hadn't been though this part of the forest more than once or twice; it was simply too big and chaotic to make his way though. The tree limbs and branches were mossy and tangled together, and it made flying through frustrating. Not only was it a nuisance, but this part of the forest _did _used to contain some of the more dangerous animals on Neverland. Not that he was scared of them.

But he was far from stopping. He had come too far to slow now. If he paused for even a bit, those damned pirates would catch up to them. Doubtful this forest would scare those drunken, hardened pirates as it was scaring the lost boys, so they were probably making it through at a much less hesitant rate. Peter turned to see the progress of the following lost boys.

"Will you hurry? Nothing is going to get you other than those pirates! So stop lolly gagging!" Peter told them sternly. His young, high pitch voice meshed oddly with his new (at least new to the lost boys) pirate accent and pirate terms he would use. The boys were several feet behind him; their wide eyes darting back and forth every which way, so much so that they were forgetting to look down at the ground they stepped on, causing them to stumble and slow.

"But Peter I _know _I saw a goblin there a while ago…" said the sandy blond, looking behind him frantically. The others shrieked and all turned to where he was looking.

"Belay that! Your fear's playin tricks! Didn't I say there's no such thing?" Said Peter. The boys turned back to peter, not entirely convinced.

"But what of ogres! I SWEAR I seen one once when-"

"Ogres?" The other boys practically screamed. They all scurried around in a frantic circle, trying to get a 360 view of the forest around them, lest an ogre sneak up on them.

"If you bloody idiots don't shut your mouths and hurry up, you'll be wishin a damned ogre got to you!" Peter hadn't meant for his words to be lined with such venom, and at first he was unaware they had. He meant for it to sound more along the lines of urgent. It was when all the boys paused from their frantic flailings and gazed back at him with startled expressions that it became apparent to him. Well… at least it shut them up.

It was in that tense moment of silence that the muffled, low grunts of voices could be heard in the distance behind them. Along with the noises were clangs and snaps of branches. The pirates… they were catching up.

All fears of goblins and ogres suddenly vanished from all the boys' thoughts as a new, much more real fear took their place.

"Oh no! How did they catch up so fast?" Shrieked one of the boys.

"Hush now!" Peter responded, not hesitating. "don't let them know they are so close! If they know they have caught up it will make it impossible to hide from them if we had to." His voice was a strained whisper. All the boys obeyed, swallowing their fear the best they could. Peter waved for them to continue forward, but this time they scurried forward at a run. They couldn't sprint it, or it would make too much noise.

For a while they pushed themselves the best they could, but it was incredibly exhausting. Peter urged them to continue, but the lost boys simply couldn't continue without a rest. The pirate's voices had quieted behind them, so they had assumed they had created a decent distance. They all stopped, collapsing onto the mossy forest floor. It had gotten to the point where the boys had mostly forgotten the spooky stories they had heard about this forest; their minds more fixed on the pirates and alleviating their exhaustion.

Other than the heavy panting of the boys, and the strange sounding chirps from the birds, it was silent. Peter was the only one to remain standing as they rested, his blue eyes scanning the direction they had come from. Little glimmers of light reached them through the canopy above, giving them a bit more light and a feeling of security.

"Think we lost em?" Terry finally chirped up though winded breaths. He looked at the two other lost boys, then to Peter. His answer was just a glance back at him. There didn't seem to be any emotion or expression at all in Peter's look. How strange, they thought.

"I don't hear them anymore." Said the boy fiddling with his compass again. He too was looking to Peter for answers, but wanted to supply his own as well. The boy with the fox pelt remained quiet, trying to look stoic and unafraid like his leader did. And failing, of course.

A moment of silence continued again, until a rather unexpected question popped up. "Peter, do you have a pirate sword?" Asked the sandy haired boy, giving up on his stoic façade. Caught off guard, peter looked down at him.

"A sword?" He asked. What would a sword do for them now?

"Yeah! All pirates have swords."

"OI! Shut your mouth! Peter aint no pirate!" Screamed Terry, jumping to his feet and pointing accusingly, earning an unnoticed 'shhh' from Liam.

"I know he's not a pirate! But he is a pirate… sort of. " The boy shouted back. "Well, technically he's not one, but he has been living like one, right?" he looked back to peter questionably.

Peter just stared at him.

"He's not a pirate! If he turned pirate that means he woulda joined Hook's crew," Terry explained after realizing Peter wasn't going to explain himself. "Peter Pan would rather die than join that old codfish!" There was a deep pride in those words; an un-broken loyalty that answered any doubts the other boys may have had on the subject.

But there was a feeling of unanswered questions tugging at all of their minds, ones that none would let leave their tongues. It's true, Peter wouldn't ever join hook's crew… but then why does he appear to be a crew member? Why does he wear a pirate's uniform, and speak the pirate tongue? And if Peter was merely a prisoner all this time, why did Hook not kill him as he always promised he would?

They all wanted to ask so many questions, but the look on their old leader's face kept the words caught in their throats. They may be children, and they may be ignorant to the real world and its grown-up troubles, but there was an understanding they all felt for their leader; a recognition of pain. Even they, with immaturity and ignorance filling their minds, knew there was pain behind that blank expression Peter held, whether they understood it or not. And they knew that asking those questions would only mean having him explain that pain.

Whether this understanding was conscious to them or unconscious, they all refrained from questioning him about his time aboard the _Jolly Roger_. At least for the moment.


	6. Hook

As the morning slowly took hold of the frothy oceans, the last few gusts of night's air rocked the Jolly Roger to and fro. All the pirates on board felt the rocking, and it made them sway. Their weathered and rugged feet stood still along the deck, unmoving. Waiting.

A few hushed voices were heard in a desperate tone, others in a mix of fear and anxiety of what they waited for. But their voices were carried with the night's winds as they took their leave for the day.

The voices came to a silence as the thump thump of polished, well kindled boots made their way up the steps to the deck. All eyes were fixed on the spot where they would soon see the man who wore those boots. As the thumps grew louder, the breaths of the pirates waiting grew shortened, until they finally came to a stop.

The door to the captain's chamber swung open with a loud bang, and out stepped a short, frantic, and rather awkward man shuffle his way out. He walked out backwards, tripping over his feet as he did so; his eyes wide and panicked as they gazed through their spectacles at the figure making his way just behind him. "Sir, just calm down-" he said hushed, but not dare say it loud enough to be heard. It was more for himself.

Just after the short man made his way out through the door, followed a figure the exact opposite. He was a tall, bold figure dressed in an elegant red cloak with golden designs lining its rims and decorating its sleeves. Long, curly black hair draped around the man's face to just below his shoulders, and cold, icy eyes looked though the few locks that made their way across his brow.

The captain of the Jolly Roger. Captain Hook, made his way on deck. His steps were smooth, yet bold, each noise sent shivers down the crew's spine. But it wasn't his stride that made them practically cower away from the man; it was his deathly glare lining his features. A glare they saw often, but none quite as menacing as this particular gaze.

The tall man stopped in the middle of the deck, and a long, tense moment of silence past.

"The boy," he said deceivingly quiet as cruel, cold eyes looked at the cut rope that had tethered Peter to the mast. It was un touched from the spot it had been, one end still tied to the pole. Hook took a breath before he continued. "you let him ESCAPE?"

The last, bellowed word sent the crew cringing and hiding away from his wrath as it echoed though the ship. The short man who was closest fell back at the shear intensity of the exclaim. No one dare speak up to answer the rhetorical question.

Hook paused again, scanning the cowering pirates that surrounded him, looking for one in particular. A scruff of ragged brown hair stuck out among the crowd; the scruff he was looking for. Moving forward, he closed in on his prey, all the other pirates dodging out of his way, revealing Virgil.

"You. You're the one that was to keep watch on the boy." Hook said sadistically hushed as he stepped close to the much shorter pirate. Wide, brown eyes looked up to him through bits of his messy hair. The pirate cowered under the deathly intimidating man looming over him, but he did his best to puff up his thin chest and appear not quite so scared. It took him a moment, but Virgil gathered the strength to answer.

"S-sir, I had watch-" he began with a shaky voice, before the much louder, harsher, and deeper voice of Hook's interrupted him.

"Then how, Mr. Virgil, did Pan manage to escape UNDER YOUR WATCH?" his voice practically shook the floor boards under the pirate's boots.

Virgil's resolve failed him. His throat seemed to close on him as he tried to think of an answer. Another pirate several feet away took pity on the younger pirate, and spoke up.

"Captn' we tink it was the lost boys. They flew on deck and snached him free," The pirate words got caught in his throat as soon as he saw those icy eyes of Hook's turn to look at him. Another pirate continued for him. "We already sent boats after em.' They landed ashore and went through the Never Forest. They couldn't have gotten far-"

"They better hadn't, for your bloody sake!" Hook bellowed at the crew, before turning his attention back to the young pirate gazing up at him, horrified. "I'll deal with the likes of you later." The words sunk down to Virgil's core, shaking his very essence. He watched as Hook turned and made his way to the top of the deck, shouting orders to the crew. He could only stand and watch as the pirates all frantically shuffled around the deck to follow the orders being told.

"Get this ship to order you bloaks! It'll be all yer heads if he isn't found!" Hook hollered in between commands. The crew hollered to each other as they obeyed Hook's commands, preparing the ship as if they were about to go into battle.

"Get me that BOY!"

Short chapter ;P ok ok so this virgil guy was NOT originally supposed to be a big character in my story, but somehow he keeps making his way in my chapters. Gwah. But yeah. I try not to make him be a big part, cause personally I hate OC's in fan stories. But what are you ganna do. Please give me your imput! 3


	7. Breaking

Peter shivered suddenly, and looked back to the direction they came.

"You hear something Peter?" Asked Liam. Peter paused only for a moment before shaking his head and facing forward again.

It had been a while sense they heard any noises from the pirates; at least an hour or two, and the fear was beginning to be replaced by relief and excitement. At least in the lost boys. As they drugged through the forest as quietly as possible, Peter began to fully grasp his situation. He escaped. He actually escaped the jolly roger. The ground beneath his feet is that of his once beloved home Neverland. He is finally back. How can this be?

Peter had shaken his head several times and even pinched his shoulder to insure he was really awake. It just didn't make sense that this was reality to him. He had not only given up hope of escaping hook's grasp long ago, but the idea of actually returning home to Neverland…. It just seems impossible.

Perhaps that is why relief never finds Peter as it finds the lost boys following him; why joy and elation he would assume he would feel from his new found freedom never fills him. It _is_ impossible. Despite the fact that this is clearly happening, Peter just cant believe it.

It would explain the numbness that fills him; numbness and a little bit of fear still echoing inside of him, knowing he could still be taken back if they don't successfully get out of these damned woods.

After a while, the trees and foliage around them begin to change. The deep, dark, and huge trees begin to slowly change to smaller, lighter, more familiar ones. Sunlight gradually begins to reach the forest floor more and more as they go. They were finally beginning to get out of the thick terror of the evil neverwood, and into the more familiar, lush, green neverwood they all know well.

Along with the change in scenery, the lost boys begin to lighten and calm, even daring to talk and chuckle and mull over their recent adventure. They are all aware of the possible pirate presence behind them, but the boys allow the hope of having escaped them overpower the fear of still getting caught. Every now and then they would get too loud or too careless while walking and Peter would quickly correct them with a 'hush' or a 'mind where you walk!'. Though the boys obediently obliged, it wasn't long before they started tugging at Peter for interaction. It is simply too difficult for them to just silently watch their glorious leader walked in front of them after all this time! Especially when so many questions are left unanswered.

The first and main question simply couldn't be held back anymore. "How are you still alive?" blurted out the boy with the fox pelt. The other boys stopped and looked at him, before looking to Peter for a response.

Peter walked a few more steps before reluctantly stopping and turning. "Can't we talk about that later? Were not safe yet-"

"C'mon Peter there aint no pirates anymore! We lost em!" The boy protests back, incredibly eager.

"Foxy…" Says Terry in a disapproving tone. The curiosity was killing him too, but Terry could tell Peter is in no mood to talk about it.

"Its just, it don't make sense. You been on the Jolly, right? This whole time?" The fox pelted boy, Foxy, walked closer and gestured to Peter's clothes. "Your all dressed like a pirate…"

"I think what he means is, how did you manage to survive all this time?" Terry steps in, a little more cautiously. "I mean, if anyone could survive Hook's ship its you!" He hesitates, before turning to the others. "It must be an interesting story!" He smiles, the comment exciting the other boys.

Peter, however, cringes slightly. An interesting story indeed…

Noting Peter's discomfort, Terry abandons the question for now. "Well… the story aint over yet, so lets give Peter time to finish it before he tells us his tale!" He says in an enthusiastic, though slightly scolding tone to the others.

Thankfully for Peter, this satisfies them, and to make sure they don't pursue the matter, he nods slightly in agreement. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his 'tale' aboard the jolly roger. Or think about it. Or even hear the words 'jolly roger' again. If they ever make it back to the hideout, it is going to be tough to satisfy their curiosity. They will demand a grand story, just as they always do after an adventure.

But it was no adventure this time. It was hell.

I-I

There was a quiet lull of a tune echoing in and out. It was the first thing Peter heard. Along with the tune swaying in and out, so did his consciousness. It was a pirate tune, a familiar song he heard sung before. He even tried to play it on his flute before back when he was alone with no lost boys. He could feel himself fading in and out, sometimes pain would hit him along with consciousness, sometimes there was only numbness. Eventually, he was able to hang on to thought long enough to pull himself out of the nothingness. He cracked his eyes open, lids dry and puffy, and his vision kept spinning as if he were doing back flips. Peter tried to wait for it to stop, but could feel himself falling unconscious again.

Turning on his side, he fought through the spinning to see his surroundings. The brig. Not the brig again…

This time Peter was sure he would die. He got hit so hard on his head he thought he heard something crack. It disturbed him, but a part of him was disappointed he hadn't died. How much longer were they planning to keep this up? How long where they going to keep Peter on the ship like this? He had expected to be dead a long time ago. Yet they keep him alive. Could it really take hook this long to think of a proper end for Peter?

He roughly sat up once he felt stable enough to do so. He didn't feel much; his head light and felt like it was full of air. His limbs were lifeless and tingly. He could see where the tune was coming from now. A pirate, one he had seen before, was sitting a few cells down. He had a pipe in his mouth and seemed to not be paying any attention. Peter's vision was too fuzzy to make out anything else about him.

He sat up as quietly as he could, not really interested in drawing attention to himself. It took balance to keep from flopping over onto the damp wooden ground. Lifting a heavy arm, he felt at his head, searching in his golden hair for the wound that was surely there. A stab of pain hit once he had found it. It wasn't quite as bad as he thought, there was a bit of dry crusted blood caked in his hair around the area, but not too big. Peter was just grateful it hadn't started throbbing yet.

For a moment his vision grew dark, and the singing got quiet, and the floor boards started coming towards him. He caught himself just before hitting the ground, and pulled himself back up, shaking his head. What did they call those bad head injuries? The ones that make it hard to function? Peter had only felt this way once before, back when Wendy and the others were here. He hit his head hard trying to catch Wendy from falling out of her flight. He was pretty sure she called it a concussion?

Realizing it didn't matter, Peter tried harder to focus on his surroundings this time. He spotted a plate of dingy looking pirate food at the edge of the bars in his cell. He couldn't smell it, but just the sight made his mouth water, despite how repulsive he found pirate food. Only for a moment did he consider eating it. On impulse he went towards it, forcing himself up onto his legs that felt of jello, before catching himself on the front bars next to the food. It was a loud thud, but he was upright at least.

The tune had stopped. When peter looked over he saw the pirate staring back at him, unimpressed. Without thinking, Peter kicked at the food next to him, causing it to fly out of the cell bars and topple all out onto the ground. His eyes were locked onto the pirate as he did this.

For a moment he stared rebelliously at the pirate before realization hit him. Why did he do that?! That was stupid! He looked down at the scattered food, then back to the pirate who was now making his way over. Peter would have backed away if not for the bars being the only thing supporting him from falling. He didn't want to be hurt anymore, and he really had been trying to avoid getting hurt as much as possible lately, but it is hard to contain his naturally rebellious attitude. Its second nature to him to do something to piss off a pirate, and his fuzzy mind must have kept at bay his restraint and better judgment.

As he came closer, Peter recognized this pirate. He had Jet black hair, spiked in a dirty fashion. He was buff; big muscles were visible through his loose shirt and vest. His eyes were light blue, lighter than Peter's, making him look scary. Like an animal or something. The last time peter saw those eyes was before receiving a massive beating from him and the crew. Peter didn't even remember why.

Suddenly keeping upright wasn't quite so important anymore, and he pushed away from the bars, falling back hard to the ground. Just in time too, because the pirate had reached his cell and stood there, looking at peter and at the mess of food on the ground, then back to peter.

"So ya ganna try starving yerself now?" He asked, his voice deep and scary. He kicked at the overturned plate. "Ya know we'll force feed ya if we have ta." He started searching for something in his pocket.

Peter scooted away from the bars further, not caring how pathetic he probably looked. He watched as the huge man pulled out a set of keys and began twisting them inside the gate keyhole.

"Why?" Peter heard the words slip out of his mouth, raspy and weak. Yet again he cant help himself. But this time he needed a response. "Why would you…?" It was the fullest sentence he could muster. The pirate pulled open the gate open and was coming closer, towering over the tiny bow crumpled on the floor. Peter braced himself.

The pirate grabed a fist full of Peters collar and yanked him up on his toes. Peter let out a yelp and was quickly face to face with the huge man. "why what?" He asked, barely interested. He paused for a second before continuing, as if he answered his own question. "Yer not allowed to die on yer own terms, pan.

Peter looked up at him, cringing and shaking, but fully interested in his answer. He tugged at the pirate's hand holding him up. His head began to throb now and the anxiety of being hurt again made his dizziness come back. But under all that he could feel anger push itself to the surface.

"Its been weeks..!" Peter spat, digging his nails into the man's arm. He responded with huff.

"Been longer than that." His voice was hard and irritated. "But I cant say it aint been fun kickin the shit out of ya."

Peter shivered. He wanted desperately to give a retort and bravely take what would come after, but it just wasn't worth the pain anymore. Not that it mattered at this point.

"Just hold out a little longer mate," The tone was mock sympathy. As he said this, he pulled Peters face closer to his own. Peter could feel his breath on his cheeks, and for a moment was glad they had broken his nose so he couldn't smell. "You'll get yer's eventually." A grin lined his face now.

Peters stomach sunk. For a little while now, Peter had been finding the idea of death a relief, something to almost look forward to. Though he didn't want to die, it would be an escape from all this. But hearing this come from the pirates mouth tore that feeling of relief and escape away from him; reminding him that his death would be just as bad as staying alive. Who knows, maybe peter _was_ trying to starve himself subconsciously. He was very, very skinny and hadn't eaten in days, despite how hungry he was. He told himself it was the gross food, but maybe Peter was just hoping for an escape.

The pirate's other fist lifted, and he can see it about to make its way to Peter's face, but a loud, powerful voice stopped it. "That's enough."

If Peter didn't know to whom that voice belonged, he would have been relieved. Now he wished the pirate's fist had made contact and knocked Peter out again.

The pirate holding onto peter quickly dropped him and mustered a reluctant 'aye' before backing away. Peter hit the ground hard, but was too distracted by his spinning and throbbing head to pay attention. He needed a second… just a second to gather himself. Explosive anxiety was making it hard for him to catch his breath. But a second just wasn't long enough. The next thing he saw was the big, muscley pirate being replaced by a more slender, taller man in a long, fancy red coat.

There was a tense moment of silence, before the commanding voice spoke again. "Give us some privacy." Just the sound of his voice made Peter cringe as if about to receive another blow, let alone what was actually said. Another 'aye' followed, before loud footsteps became quiet ones, and the door that led out of the brig opened and closed.

Peter felt frozen, still grabbing his spinning head. He didn't dare look up at the man standing too close to him. He heard a shift, and could see out of the corner of his spinning eyes that the man was knelt down almost to Peter's level. What Peter wouldn't give to have the strength to stare defiantly up at him like he used to. To not back down to him and come up with a witty insult to throw at him.

Suddenly Peter felt gruff finders around his face, grabbing his jaw and yanking his head to face him. He couldn't help but make eye contact with those steely, cold eyes looking back down at him.

With a last bit of strength, Peter wiped the fear off his face the best he could and replaced it with a glare. Hook did not glare back, however. Instead there was a disturbing smile on his face.

II

You will have to forgive me for this chapter. It has been a while and I am trying to get my writing groove back. I got massively carried away with writing every little detail…. And it just didn't turn out like I wanted. Bah. Anyway, I do have an actual plot forming, but I wouldn't mind some advice as to ideas! Also I am not a master at mixing present events with flash backs…


	8. Damage

After a little while of walking, Peter noticed the trees significantly changing. They look almost tropical in nature now; not at all like the ones at the hideout. It wasn't surprising, considering he had no idea where he was going (other than _away _from the pirates), but it was looking like they were heading towards water again.

He stops and ponders, while the boys patiently wait for Peter to explain the stop. After a moment, he looks to the boy with the compass. "We still heading the right way?" he asks.

Liam lights up at being acknowledged, and checks his compass. He looks at it sideways, spins around with it, and shakes it. "Yeah, most direct way." He says pointing the way they were heading. The other boys started to notice the change in foliage as well.

"Guess were so used to flying over.." Terry said with a shrug, before looking to Peter. Peter was beginning to notice an odd, protective quality to the things he would say; almost always trying to explain the actions of Peter in a reasonable way, or deter the other boys from asking too many questions that would cause him pain. Though Peter's face had been practically stoic, Terry has been able to read him. He and Peter must have been close before, though Peter couldn't quite remember too well…

Peter couldn't deny, the area looks vaguely familiar. But that doesn't do much for him. Everything in Neverland is 'familiar' to him. After all it was his home! It _belonged _to him!

It belongs to Peter…. Was he even Peter anymore?

Peter shook his head again, not bothering with pointless questions. All that matters is getting to safety.

The 4 boys walk for a little while longer. Peter still takes the lead, while the others are still somewhat close together in the back. He can hear them gradually get louder and their voices get more lighthearted and playful, but he allows them to do so. They were probably being too loud, but they keep a better pace when they _aren't _cowering in fear. He faded in and out of their bantering; they spoke about how they couldn't believe they got out of the dark neverwood alive, how they weren't scared at all, and how each of them would have bravely taken on any monster that came there way.

"And if I fell, well that's ok! Cause Peter is back to save the day!" Foxy says excitedly. He swirled around in a nonsensical way, clearly letting the joy of his wonderous leader being back overflow. No more fear of monsters! No more hiding away! Back to the good ol adventures they used to have!

"And can you see it? Us all flyin' with Peter again! Half the lost boys can barely hover anymore without him teaching them the way!" Liam joins Foxy's flailing, only instead of spinning he flaps his arms and zooms around as if high in the sky. "Can you imagine their faces when they see Peter?" Even Terry giggles and jumps around, letting joy take hold. It truly was a great day!

Peter couldn't help but notice them all talk about him as if he wasn't there. Obviously they were letting their imaginations of what Peter _will _be like and what he _was _like overpower what is in front of them now. Not at all what Peter Pan _should _be like.

"And oh Peter! Just wait till Tinkerbell sees you!" Fox practically yells, running over to his leader. "Her light will be back to bright in no time!" The sandy haired boy was just about to jump onto Peter in an adoring hug until a hand stops him. Peter was frozen, facing away from them, his arm outstretched and palm facing Foxy, stopping him in his tracks.

There is a moment of quiet. "Foxy!" Terry scolds in a harsh whisper like voice. He quickly yanks him away from Peter. "We said we wouldn't bring that up until-" The red haired boy's whisper-yelling was cut short by a hush noise from Peter.

Another moment of staring at Peter who was still standing there, unmoving. "L-look Peter, Fox didn't mean-" Another harsh shush quiets him again. Now not only were they concerned, but they were confused.

"Listen…" Peter says. He tilts his head slightly, facing one of his pointy ears forward. The lost boys stand as still as they can, completely confused. After a moment of pondering, they hear something. Voices, but not pirate voices. High pitched ones, giggles, echoing through the trees. There is also a constant lull of something, like the ocean, or a waterfall. The sounds are very quiet, but they are there.

Peter listens for another moment before turning to Liam, who is at the back of the group. His eyes wide and fixed on Peter. "You said this was the way?" Peter asks, his brows furrowed. His tone is almost accusing. The brown haired boy instinctively starts fiddling with his compass again, but doesn't bother checking it. Swallowing hard, he nods.

"What is it Peter? Fairies?" Terry asks curiously. It didn't sound evil whatever it was. Maybe it was a good thing!

The cock-a-doodle pirate stares at the boys for a moment, contemplating their situation. The sound and voices are familiar, but he can't quite remember what it is. It was frustrating; knowing you know something but unable to access the knowledge. He searched his mind but it was a blank.

The pause was stressing the lost boys out. What was wrong with Peter? Is there something sinister to this new found noise?

Before any of them could voice their questions, they are stopped by the sight of Peter's eyes fixing on something behind them. For a moment his blue eyes stare, then suddenly widen. A click-click is heard, and then an explosive, incredibly loud pop follows. All the boys cringe and almost fall at the shock of it.

They all turn behind them and see to where the noise originated. The pirates. Several of them. Not only had they some how caught up, but they were only a few yards away. The bang was still echoing through the trees before another click-click.

"Run!" Peter screams. In an instant the boys all bolt, frantic and horrified. Another bang echoes behind them. The boys all dart through the trees as fast as they can, Peter taking the rear this time to make sure they keep up speed. They can hear the rustle of the pirates behind them now, all too close. The wonder boy hadn't had time to recognize just who exactly it was chasing them now; whether they were fast runners or strong, brutal or forgiving. He just hopes they were slow enough to outrun. Several more bangs from pirate guns were fired off behind them, encouraging them to run faster. Peter assumed, sense none of the boys were dropping suddenly to the ground, that they were just meant to scare them. It wasn't exactly logical, but fear solves everything when all else fails. Pirate philosophy.

If not, then it was good Peter was behind them. They may want to kill a lost boy, but he was sure they didn't want to kill Peter. Not like this anyway. They weren't stupid enough to risk hitting Peter just to take out one of the boys. Right?

There is a cease in the loud popping of gunfire, and it is replaced by deep pirate bellows. They were fighting each other now. Good, hopefully it will slow them down, Pan thought. Maybe they realized shooting wildly was only quickening the boys pace. Peter hoped anyway.

The 4 boys sprint and run and push their scrawny legs to move as fast as they can. Adrenalin kept the exhaust at bay for now. The pirates were too close, but far enough to keep the boy's hopes from diminishing. The deep gruff voices were slightly quieter than they were before, but still following steadily. Peter knew they could out run them; Pirates are big and tough but don't have a lot of stamina. Something the boys had in advantage to them.

The bustling and cracking of the leaves crunching under their feet start fading away under the loud sound of their wheezing breaths and pants for air. For a while Peter can't focus on anything other than breathing, but even soon the sound of frantic breaths began to fade. The trees surrounding them seem to get darker as well, and the lost boys seem further away than they were a few moments ago. He can't help but panic a little at seeing he was slowing down.

Suddenly one of the boys in front of him tumble and fall, and Peter had to stumble to a stop. The other boys in front hadn't seemed to notice.

"Get up! Get up!" Peter screams down at the boy, yanking at his slender arms. The boy seems to mouth something up to his leader, but Peter can't hear him. He didn't really care either; he just needed to get the boy back up and moving. One of his feet slips on the leaves under him and he crumples down onto the boy, who Peter can now recognize is Liam.

The young pirate scrambles to get off of him the best he can while tugging at him to raise, but the lost boy seems to keep screaming at Peter and wasn't exactly cooperating. Finally Peter stops long enough to see what his problem is. When he looks down at his round face, he sees his dark green eyes wide and horrified, his lips still mouthing words.

Peter shakes his head, frustrated, and stares at him again attempting to listen the best he can. "What?! What is it?" He can't help but still tug at him still, but he forces himself to pause long enough to listen.

The first words were still deafened, but he could make out the last few. "-sten to me! Bleeding!" Liam screams. Bleeding? What?

Peter finally stops fully. He now fully takes in the boy clinging back to him. On his vest, face and on his arms were shiny, somewhat large red spots littered everywhere, to which Peter finally recognized as blood. Liam was hurt! Was it the fall? Did a bullet get him?

Peter grabbed at his arms tighter, searching over his body for the wound. "Your Hurt! What happened?! Where-" The young pirate realized he can barely hear himself, let alone the other boy. He had to focus intently to hear him this time.

"Not me Peter!" Liam screams. "You're bleeding everywhere!"

"What?" Peter has to take a second to register. _He's _bleeding? Looking down he can see the same blood all over himself, centered at his stomach. Long drips of dark scarlet stained his clothes all the way down to his knees. But…but he can't be injured, he feels fine!

Peter looks back up to Liam, now realizing the tiny arms he clung to were actually holding the young pirate upright, vs the other way around. The corners of his vision were beginning to get hazy, and he was still having trouble hearing. But… that was due to the adrenaline. At least Peter had assumed so?

Slowly, he let go of the smaller boy with one hand and feels the dark bloody spot on his stomach. It doesn't hurt, but under the layers of newly ragged pirate shirt was a small hole in his skin. Peter could feel oozing blood drizzle over his fingers as he feels the wound. Shit. He _was_ hurt.

Disturbed, he takes another moment to feel his stomach before turning behind them. Luckily the pirates where still far behind.

"Oh my god Peter your ganna die!" Liam screams clinging to Peter tighter. If it wasn't for Liam being the main reason Peter was still upright, he would have pulled away.

"Stop it!" Peter yells back. One of the pirate's bullets must have got him. How long ago did this happen? It seems like they had been running forever now.

"But Peter your bleeding all over the place!" Tears well up in the young boy's big green eyes. His arms clinging to Peter were shaking violently, causing Peter to jostle and feel sick. Out of fear he might vomit, he shoves the lost boy away, but has to catch himself from face planting onto the forest floor.

"Shut up you" Peter says half-heartedly, his voice still muffled in his own ears. "I've had worse." Although he wasn't sure if that was true, it seemed to comfort the boy a little. As quickly as he could, Peter slips off his pirate shirt, dripping of red, and tightly wraps it around his stomach where the hole was. He can't quite tie it though; his hands are too weak, so he instructs Liam to tie it as tightly as he can. Frantically, while sucking back tears, the lost boy does his best and ties it tight.

While the boy does this, an echoed scream is heard in the distance. Peter and Liam both jump at the sound. It was one of the other boys, now a ways ahead of them.

II

Sorry, this chapter really is crap. haven't written in forever. May adjust it and fix it up a little.


	9. Sinking

It was an absolute nightmare trying to run for Peter. Liam had to practically drag him forward; his legs felt of jelly and his vision was half gone. Worst of all was just focusing on what was happening. Every part of him wanted to just stop running and sleep, and it took a tremendous amount of will power to keep going. His feet were numb, his hands were ice cold, and his head felt as though it was full of cotton balls. Despite tying up his wound the best he could, Peter could still feel droplets of blood oozing down from the shirt tourniquet and down his legs. The tightness of the shirt around his stomach also made breathing strained. But the worst was that he felt no pain; it was all numb. If something hurts, then it's just an injury. If something _doesn't _hurt, then it's a bigger problem. And now not only did he have to run away from the pirates who were probably catching up, but they needed to follow the sound of the two lost boys screams ahead of them.

At first they could hear their screams, then it quieted, and that worried Peter the most. Turning his head around to see behind them, he felt the whole world slosh about, as if he were floating in molasses. But miraculously there were no pirates in his sight just yet. Maybe they still had a chance if they could just get far enough….

Suddenly Peter felt himself slam into the figure of the lost boy who was just in front of him. He had stopped suddenly, but Peter found out why just a bit too late.

The two of them practically flew of the ledge in front of them, skidding and sliding down a very vertical cliff; if it wasn't for the tangle of vines and brush on the way down, it could have almost been a strait drop. With a hard thud the two fell onto a hard, damp rock at the bottom of the cliff.

All they could do for the first moments is wait for the dizziness to dye down. They had scratches and lumps and rips in their clothes from the tumble, and the wind had been knocked out of them from the landing. Peter would have been in a great deal of pain, judging from Liam's moaning next to him, if it hadn't been for his already numb state. He tried to sit up, but he could feel the blood drain from his head, and everything would sparkle and go black, so instead he lay there a little bit longer, trying to focus his eyes enough to see where they were.

It was bright, Peter could tell that. A big open sky was stretched out above him, with minimal trees lining the edges of his vision. So, they were out of the forest again? Was that a good thing? He couldn't think logically enough to know. He turned his head, slowly, and saw the cliff they had fallen from. It was rather steep. There was a clear edge where the forest ended at the top of the cliff. Cliffs like that usually mean water… so why did they land on such a hard rock?

Next thing he saw was the hazy face of Liam, now leaning over him. He had lots of little cuts and dirt on his face, and the goggles on his head had broken and one of the lenses was shattered. All the colors of his face started to blend together like a watercolor painting with too much water mixed in, and the sounds he could hear morphed together into white noise. It looked rather beautiful. The sun glowed just behind his head, making the tips of his hair look like they were on fire. It was now that Peter noticed something he hadn't been able to put his finger on before… he looks different. All the lost boys did. His scuffed up, bloody cheeks were less full than he remembered, now that he took the second to notice and remember the boy. Yes… Peter remembered specifically Liam always had big, rosy cheeks. Maybe the red blood blending in with all the other colors on his face reminded him. And his shattered goggles were always around his neck, being much too big to wear on his eyes or head. Yet there they were, placed on his head, and his cheeks looked slimmer. But why was that?

Liam was saying something down to peter with a concerned look on his face; suppose he should try and listen then.

"-ter! C'mon don't die!" His voice faded in and out. "Peter please! We just got you back! Don't leave us again!"

Don't leave… The words echoed. Peter had screamed those words before. Many times before. The pain of being abandoned was something Peter knew all too well. So many people have left him; his mother, his lost boys, wendy… He never understood why everyone wants to leave him. He was so exciting and fun, always making sure to entertain those around him… yet it's never enough. Nothing he does is enough to keep those around him, and he always ends up alone. It was so painful for him to be alone. To be abandoned.

And now here he is, causing that pain to someone else.

"Liam…" Peter choked out. He reached up his arm towards him, but it felt much too heavy. Squinting and blinking the blurred vision away, he tried to acknowledge the boy above him. "Help me up…" he said. He could feel himself sinking under the threat of unconsciousness, and he had enough sense to know passing out was the last thing to do right now. The pirates… the lost boys… he had to get up.

Cautiously, Liam obeyed, lifting him upright. Everything was sparkly and fuzzy, but Peter was able to push it away and regain his vision. Finally, he could see just where exactly the found themselves.

It wasn't hard to recognize a beautiful place like this; there was indeed water here, all around them except for several uplifted rocks. The area was a large circular area, water filling the area up to the cliffs which reached up to the forest above. Lining the cliff edges were soft, flowing waterfalls, with one large one not too far from where the two boys were perched. On the opposite end was an opening in the surrounding cliffs that opened out to the ocean. The cove… Peter knew this cove; this beautiful, hidden away spot.

"Where are the other boys?" Peter asked, looking around and seeing no one around them. Liam was helping him up further as he asked this, not bothering to look around. He was much more concerned with getting his crippled, bloody leader upright.

Deep, noisy voices echoed around them suddenly, bouncing off the walls surrounding them. Both boys knew it was the pirates, about to catch up with them. They could only hope the cliff would be enough to slow them so to get out from being in the open.

"The waterfall!" Peter yelled, gabbing a finger in its direction. "Get over there, and hide behind it. There should be a cave there." He balanced himself up on his feet now, ignoring the nausea that assaulted him upon doing so. Liam was still clinging to him until the blond shoved him away towards the direction of the waterfall.

Liam was about to protest and grab at Peter again, but he stopped him before he could. "Now Liam! I'm following!" Peter assured the younger boy, leaving no room for argument. Peter wasn't exactly in the position to lead the way, and balancing on these uneven rocks would make getting to the falls a challenge.

The lost boy made a stressed noise, but obeyed, and began making his way towards the falls. Peter followed, but the boy seemed to hop over the rocks quickly and with such ease, it was impossible to keep up. In fact just standing was difficult for the young pirate. He was able to make one jump onto another rock, but he nearly fell off into the waters below, and suddenly his body felt as though it were twice as heavy as normal. With a thud, the bloody boy fell to his knees.

Liam had almost made it to the waterfall by the time Peter got himself back on his feet again. The cock-a-doodle could hear the noises of the pirates behind them become very loud, and inadvertently he turned to the cliff they had come from.

He could see them; the pirates. They were small, all the way at the top of the cliff, but they finally caught up. Surprisingly, they didn't look as though they had spotted Peter just yet; the brush and tropical trees they made there way though had given them trouble, and they were still getting out of the tangle of the thicket.

Peter should run now; turn and bolt towards the waterfall while he had the chance, but his body wasn't responding. It couldn't respond anymore. He could feel it; his body was shutting down. He probably bled just a bit too much, and the stress of running from the pirates was too much for him. Maybe it was good this way. The pirates would see peter, and forget about the others, giving them a chance to get away. Peter really hadn't had the chance to get away from the start anyway… He had always known it was impossible. Come to think of it, this was actually a good way to go out. He was on Neverland once again, getting to see his lost boys once more, and out of Hook's grasp at last. It was virtually painless too because of the blood loss. More than Peter had ever hoped for really.

Before the black nothingness could take over him, however, he felt something slam into him from the side and push him into the water below. Whatever it was that had hit into him was still clinging to him as they submerged into the cool, salty water. He could feel himself get pulled deeper and deeper, more so than he should have just from the fall. What ever it was holding on to him was pushing him down.

Frantically he flailed and tugged away at the mysterious creature holding him, but he couldn't wriggle free. Opening his eyes, he could see the outline of a figure, but it was blurred from the watery vision. He could see the water's surface behind the figure holding him and pushing him down, and desperately tried to claw away and reach for it.

His back pushed up against the sandy water's bottom, and the being on top of him held him there tightly. He could feel his breath running out, and in desperation he reached for the small dagger hidden in his boot and swung wildly, almost making contact, but his arm was quickly pinned against the sandy floor. The water around them was becoming dark, and there was a steady stream of cloudy red developing around them from Peter's wound.

With the last bit of strength he had left, he flailed and clawed and kicked, but the figure didn't budge. One of his hands grabbed a fist full of what he assumed was the figures hair, and tugged and yanked it out of desperation. Pulling it in close towards him, he was at least able to see the face of the creature steadily drowning him. It was a beautiful, but scary face. Perfect features framed by flowing black hair, much if it now tangled in his fist. Eyes almost fully black, devoid of irises, and deathly pale skin. This figure, this _girl, _had a scary expression; mostly devoid of emotion, but with the linings of anger and a clear intent to kill.

Mermaids. What wonderfully interesting, yet dangerous creatures. Peter always found them especially fun to interact with; always a bit predictable, but so much different than humans. On the surface they can interact and react like a human does, but it is more of a deception. They were like animals; different social cues, different thought processes, different ideals. They could be so kind and friendly, and also so deadly and cruel. Peter took great pride in having won over their trust long ago, being one of the only people to have ever done so, and he often enjoyed learning about them, and vise versa.

But Peter knows that you don't just show up in their habitat unknown. Normally they would try to kill you, whether or not they feel threatened by you. Usually they wouldn't go out of their way to kill a lost boy, but pirates on the other hand are a pleasure to kill. And that's what was happening now. A mermaid drowning a pirate.

He knew he couldn't do anything but watch as the mermaid drowned him. Her beautiful face watched back as the last bit of air escaped his lungs, and water rushed in. It was painful, but stopped quickly. Unconsciousness didn't find him immediately though, to his surprise, and Peter let go of the mermaid's hair, feeling the soft locks slide through his fingers. He watched as her expression of intent shifted, and then turned to something he didn't recognize. Wide, black eyes came closer to his, and suddenly her hard, scary face turned soft and pained. He wanted to tell her its ok, for reasons he didn't quite understand, but blackness was overtaking him.

The last thing he felt was soft lips against his own.

II

Just finished exams! So I celebrate with writing more peter pan~ I went back to past tense. Present tense is too hard to write in… Anyway. I am thinking of doing a flashback again of him on the ship…. or maybe how he got caught in the first place? or back to Virgil? Idk my original storyline kind of ended here. Input please! And thank you for all the kind comments! I am glad you guys like this story! You make me want to keep writing


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